


Replay Analysis

by katjh



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Aftermath, Gen, Perfectionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katjh/pseuds/katjh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is a perfectionist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Replay Analysis

“Nat.”

She turned around to see Clint Barton standing in the doorway, hands tucked into the pockets of his BDUs. He still had dark circles under his eyes and half-healed cuts and bruises on his arms, but he was looking a lot better than he had during and after the battle with the Chitauri. She put down the knife she had been sharpening and said, “What is it?”

He glanced at the one chair in her room and she let her eyes rest on it in a silent invitation for him to sit. He pulled the chair over to the bed and sat on it backwards, his arms folded on the back and his chin resting atop them. “Is it weird if I want to see the footage?”

Natasha looked at him, and then at the TV in the corner that was playing another news report on the Chitauri attack, the volume too low to hear.

Clint turned his head and caught sight of the TV. “Not that,” he said. “I meant... On the helicarrier. Our fight, and... Well, when I blew things up.”

“Oh.” Natasha picked up her knife and tested the blade gingerly before sheathing it. So that was what this was about. She knew Clint was a perfectionist, but she didn’t expect it to extend to that. “Have you watched it yet?” she asked.

The archer wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Our fight. Just the once, they showed it to me. I barely even remember it, but I saw everything I did wrong and I just...” He flexed his fingers, forming a fist. “I need to make sure I won’t make the same mistakes again. Trying to fight you in close quarters with my bow?”

“You’re not going to have to fight me again,” Natasha said gently, reaching to put her pale hand on Clint’s arm reassuringly.

He stared at her slim fingers. He knew they’d been broken many times, but they had managed to heal straight, and they looked small and caring instead of capable of wielding deadly force. Natasha’s words were empty anyway. They both knew it was a possibility that one of them would have to take down the other. The Red Room had left her mind vulnerable to control, and Clint had a record of insubordination. “I need to see it,” he said softly.

“They’ve placed you on lockdown, haven’t they?” Natasha asked, realization dawning on her. Clint nodded; Natasha knew he wouldn’t have come and unloaded this burden on her unless he had a reason. It was manipulation, true enough, but she could respect that. He had gone against orders for her before, and was willing to do so over and over again. So what if she pulled the footage of his attack on the helicarrier for him? “If it gets you peace of mind,” Natasha said.

“I think it will help.”

“Then we’ll watch it all, as many times as we need to until you’re satisfied,” said Natasha, standing up. “And no one else needs to know. I promise.”

Clint looked up at her, his eyes clear and blue and _him_. “You’re not going to laugh when you slam my head into the bar on the walkway, are you?”

Natasha didn’t even crack a smile; her eyes gave nothing away. “I’m going to have hysterics,” she promised, pulling Clint out of the chair.

“You’re the worst,” said Clint. He smiled, a real smile, not like the other ones since the attack.

  
  
As they left Natasha’s room, she asked, “D’you think Coulson will want to watch this with us?”

“He’s going to pull his stitches when he sees us resort to _hair-pulling_ and _biting_. For his own safety, we can’t let him see it.”

**Author's Note:**

> My quiet protest whenever someone suggests Clint is bad at hand-to-hand. Yeah, he's a sniper, but did you miss the entire fight with Natasha? It wasn't a complete beat-down one way or the other. Also I tend to squee a little over him throwing his knife from one hand to the other. That is all.


End file.
